The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
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PROËMIUM. |
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The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||
PROËMIUM.
Great is of hair-powder the sale
—
Dundas and Pitt have both turn'd pale;
Yet courtiers cry aloud its want of merit.
Courtiers have try'd with all their spite
To sink it in Oblivion's night—
My friend, the Public, keeps it up with spirit.
Dundas and Pitt have both turn'd pale;
Yet courtiers cry aloud its want of merit.
Courtiers have try'd with all their spite
To sink it in Oblivion's night—
My friend, the Public, keeps it up with spirit.
How often we have seen a bullying cloud
Attack the sun, and quarrel too aloud;
Spit, thunder, lighten, frighten the two poles,
Blocking up ev'ry avenue for peeping;
On this side now, and now on that side creeping;
A sort of dirty malkin stopping holes!
Attack the sun, and quarrel too aloud;
Spit, thunder, lighten, frighten the two poles,
Blocking up ev'ry avenue for peeping;
On this side now, and now on that side creeping;
A sort of dirty malkin stopping holes!
Sometimes the worried glorious god of day
Insists upon a view, and shows an eye;
Just as a manager, when some sad play
Is taken ill, and very like to die,
Kens through the curtain on the critic nation,
All hissing, clatt'ring, howling out damnation.
Insists upon a view, and shows an eye;
Just as a manager, when some sad play
Is taken ill, and very like to die,
48
All hissing, clatt'ring, howling out damnation.
Thus Envy, the vile hag, attacks my rhimes,
Swearing they shall not peep on distant times;
But violent indeed will be the tussel;
I deem myself, indeed, a tuneful whale:
She swears I'm not upon so large a scale;
Rather a wrinkle, limpet, paltry muscle,
Swearing they shall not peep on distant times;
But violent indeed will be the tussel;
I deem myself, indeed, a tuneful whale:
She swears I'm not upon so large a scale;
Rather a wrinkle, limpet, paltry muscle,
Clinging to heavy rocks, or wooden things,
Meaning my loyalty, perchance, to kings.
The public seems to like my brats,
Begot, indeed, with little pain—
Whether it turbot gives, or sprats,
Behold another to maintain!
Thus, then, I cast it on that sea the town:
If true, it swims; if spurious, let it drown.
Meaning my loyalty, perchance, to kings.
The public seems to like my brats,
Begot, indeed, with little pain—
Whether it turbot gives, or sprats,
Behold another to maintain!
Thus, then, I cast it on that sea the town:
If true, it swims; if spurious, let it drown.
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||